


Mesopotamia

by ermete



Series: Ineffably Bonded [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M, Memories, Mesopotamia, Missing Scene, Slice of Life, The Fall (Good Omens), Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 06:12:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19435549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ermete/pseuds/ermete
Summary: Weeks after Noah's Ark affair, Aziraphale meets Crowley at the Euphrates river's shore.They stretch their wings.And their memories.





	Mesopotamia

**Mesopotamia**

A few centuries after the creation of everything, mankind was slowly but surely spreading on the surface of the Earth, starting their own associations, their little and yet progressive inventions, their wars and their religions.  
  
Human beings' ability to invent something new was fascinating and a little scary, in Aziraphale's opinion.  
  
It was fascinating because they didn't need to be prompted with a miracle or any kind of divine intervention to invent, they simply could come up with some new ideas by themselves, out of the blue - some genuinely good, other ones completely pointless or, worse, catastrophic.  
  
There had been really good ideas like the writing language - so that they could pass their traditions to future generations. Or numbers, astronomy and - oh Lord! - music! They were genius, those mortals!  
  
And, - oh Lord (again) - the food! Of all the things, Aziraphale didn’t expect to become addicted to food. After all, it wasn’t even a necessity for him. He never felt hunger, of course, he was an angel, and he didn’t need it. Then he saw how much mortals were enjoying it, like they were not consuming food just to regain their strength or because it was vital for them, they were actually craving it, inventing new ways to cook, to flavour. Like that time when he went to Assyria and tasted olives, all those different types of olives. Now, _that_ was a real temptation.  
  
Aziraphale was so fascinated by Gods last invention that he couldn't believe it when their superiors, the Archangels, told him he was chosen to be the one on Earth duties until the end of times. And the other angels were content, as they couldn't see any appeal in the mortals. They actually found it offensive that they looked so much alike. Themselves, other angels, all superior and divine creatures and then those inferior, filthy meat-suits.  
  
Two birds with one stone, thought Aziraphale, since his superiors didn't care about human beings, they weren't checking in on him very often either. Aziraphale didn't even feel like he was on duty, he felt like he was on vacation!  
  
Although, there was also the other side of the coin. There were moments when the Almighty needed to teach men to respect the Lord by mass-killing a whole community of people for no apparent reason - as Crowley would say (and has multiple times) but he was a demon, Aziraphale would reply.  
  
It had only been a few weeks ago, that Noah's Ark affair. Aziraphale felt so bad about that - all those good people drowning, but that was the Almighty's will, so, even if the angel didn't like it, he didn't dare object to it either.  
  
At least it wasn’t a duty assigned directly to him. He was glad he wasn’t important enough to be in charge of any mass-killing. Unfortunately, he couldn’t intervene to at least save the children as too many angels had been watching down at the Earth at that moment.  
  
Were they also enjoying it? Aziraphale couldn’t help but think. Especially when Crowley commented: “This seems like something my side would do.”  
  
Aziraphale indulged a little in that thought, deeply in his mind. He would, however, never admit that to Crowley. Even if he did agree.  
  
***  
  
It was a starry night in that very same Mesopotamian desert, the sky clear – a sign of the heavy rain that had flooded the area. The calm after the storm.  
  
Aziraphale was sitting at a hidden spot on Euphrates river shore, a tall dune of golden sand hiding him so that he could feel free to unleash and stretch his wings. Being on an undercover mission with the mortals was more than exciting, but he missed his wings.  
  
It's wasn't that hiding them was painful. They weren't physical extensions, at least not to his mortal shell, he could summon and un-summon them easily. He just missed them, he had been created with them after all.  
  
"Showing off, are we?"  
  
Suddenly, a voice coming from his back made the angel startle, and instinctively he pulled his wings in a little.  
  
"Nae, dinnae bother hiding them, angel. It's just me."  
  
Sauntering over, Crowley joined Aziraphale on the sand, far enough away to feel free to spread his wings as well, as close as possible to the angel to talk as he preferred to those deemed interesting enough to do so.  
  
He usually preferred to stay close to him, ignoring completely the social distance or, generally speaking, what mortals would call basic decency.  
  
Crowley’s favourite position to speak with Aziraphale has always been the same: his lower body a bit far away, pinpointed towards the ground, while his upper body was completely favoured to the angel, especially his face. He was so used to smelling sulphur that inhaling the angel’s pure scent was something he really enjoyed doing.  
  
And, of course, the closer he got to the angel’s face, the easier it was to embarrass him. And make him blush. _Adorably_.  
  
"Oh, Crowley, " Aziraphale cheered back, unfurling his wings again behind his back. "Very snake-like of you, approaching me from behind without making a sound."  
  
"Maybe I wanted to bite you," the demon smiled, hissing the tip of his forked tongue between his teeth, tasting the air.  
  
Aziraphale chuckled, embarrassed, blushing even. And when he saw Crowley's reaction to that - he was smiling, amused, grinning shamelessly - he coughed a little and changed the subject quickly.  
  
"So, still around here, in Mesopotamia? Don't you have some temptation to do somewhere else?"  
  
"Oh, c'mon angel, you're happy to see me," Crowley clicked his tongue against his palate and waved a hand around lazily, "Mortals may be interesting, but only another supernatural creature can actually understand."  
  
The angel choked on a few syllables without managing to put together a proper word. Regaining his grip he grumbled, "We are complete opposites, we don't relate that much."  
  
"Whatever," shrugged Crowley, not really interested in starting the debate _'angels-are-good, demons-are-bad'_. Again.  
  
He just didn’t understand that argument at all. They were opposites, so what? That wasn’t a valid excuse to justify them to be enemies, just because others said so. Not from his point of view, anyway.  
  
He just wanted to chat with Aziraphale. And get to know him as much as possible.  
  
Also, seeing the angel stretching his wings made him want to do that too, like a reflex, or conditioning. Stretching his wings out fiercely, Crowley made the sand around them dance in little gyres.  
  
"And I thought I was the one showing off." Aziraphale chuckled. He couldn't help but stare at the demons black wings. Opening his mouth again as if to ask a question, he huffed, shaking his head and turning away instead.  
  
"What?" asked Crowley, atonic this time. Seeing that Aziraphale was still hesitating, he prompted, with a hint of mockery in his voice: "C'mon angel, don't make me beg."  
  
And then he winked. He didn’t know it yet, but he had just invented one of the most used and appreciated facial-expressions, deals seals, flirting tools of all time.  
  
"I...It's just…" he stuttered and then stopped, turning to point the demon's wings.  
  
"What?" insisted Crowley, stretching his right wing toward Aziraphale, shaking it in front of his face, provocatively, as if daring him to touch.  
  
Aziraphale blinked, leaning back to avoid his face touching the secondary feathers, but reaching out with his hand instead. Touching the last primary feather gently, he watched Crowley, trying to see if he could dare such a thing. Their wings are sensitive, after all, being such delicate and intimate parts of a supernatural being's body.  
  
Crowley was certainly surprised - he hadn't expected the angel to take the bait - but not annoyed. Not at all.  
  
He had met Aziraphale a lot of times after the Eden Garden due to them both being sent to Earth for work, and his fascination for the celestial creature had simply increased with time. He liked being able to say that he had started to know the angel a little: his behaviours, his beliefs, his expressions.  
  
But touching his wings of his own free will? That was completely unexpected.  
  
He couldn't help but stare at Aziraphale's hand start to play softly with the black feather, winding it around a finger and then pulling away, only looking back when he could hear the angel clear his throat and start to speak.  
  
"I- I just thought, you know, I don't know why, that when angels fall, they would lose their wings," he whispered, while he couldn't possibly find the ability to stop caressing that black, shiny feather. "I am glad you didn't, though. Your wings are so beautiful."  
  
For the first time in his entire existence, Crowley sat, speechless.  
  
"I…" Aziraphale started talking again. "I wasn't there when the Rebellion happened, you know. I-I didn't want to fight. I found an excuse for not being there," he closed his eyes, sighing quietly, shaking his head. "I don't know how it happened, the Fall."  
  
"Oh," Crowley's mouth curved into a melancholic expression. He didn’t mean to rebel, actually, hence he didn’t mean to fall. Or, at least, he didn’t want to declare war against the angels’ garrisons per se. He disagreed with the Almighty Great Plan, sure, but he didn’t want to fight. He was an Angel too. However, when the others fell, he just so happened to be hanging around with them at the time, and so, he fell too.  
  
They stayed quiet and silent for a while. Crowley wasn’t ready to speak about that and Aziraphale could sense that the topic wasn’t a pleasant one for the demon.  
  
“I am sorry. I didn't mean to mention that,” Aziraphale apologised, eventually, while his fingers continued to rub over the black feather gently.  
  
Aziraphale was surprised he even wanted to touch someone else’s wings. It's usually something extremely intimate, as Angels are conceited of their own wings. But, somehow, since Crowley wasn’t an angel anymore, he felt free to indulge in touching, since the demon didn’t seem to be bothered by it anyway.  
  
Aziraphale has always been a curious one, he always craved to know more, compared to the other Angels who were already blessed by the knowledge the Almighty gave them. That was already a lot, but Aziraphale wanted to know why, not just how. That was the reason why he was so different compared to the others.  
  
“Truth is,” Crowley interrupted his silence, “I don’t remember a lot about the Fall,” his movements, usually fluent and confident, were now a bit rigid and nervous. While he usually liked to stare at the angel too, he was looking away instead, digging his left hand into the sand beside him.  
  
There was a long pause before the demon started again: “I remember the Rebellion, I remember the fighting, I remember we lost, but I can’t actually recall falling. What happened, or how my wings changed. I only remember it hurting.”  
  
Shrugging a little, the demon sighed. “When I woke up, I was already in Hell. Body changed, wings changed, my powers too.”  
  
They both fell silent again.  
  
Eventually, Aziraphale stopped stroking Crowley’s wing and replied, “One might think that that was the Almighty giving you all a second chance.”  
  
“Excuse me?” snapped Crowley, a little irritated at the reply. He didn’t mind hiding his emotions, it wasn’t really in his nature to do that. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t.  
  
“Well, the Lord could have simply destroyed you, instead of turning you into something different-”  
  
“The Lord...” Crowley mentioned sarcastically rolling his eyes. He didn’t care that he had abruptly interrupted the angel, “…couldn’t stand that some of those created by her could have a different opinion.”  
  
“What I am trying to say,” Aziraphale tried again raising his hands to show he meant no harm, “is that I am glad the Lord didn’t destroy...”  
  
A brief pause.  
  
“...you.” He finished eventually, moving his sight in another direction. He tickled the air with his fingers like he was playing a harp. It was something he did whenever he was nervous and waiting for someone else’s reaction.  
  
Crowley's eyebrows drew together, surprised. But he was also still irritated, so snapping his fingers, the demon caused a little dune of sand to fall upon Aziraphale, out of nowhere. After all, he was a demon, as also the angel liked to mention constantly.  
  
Closing his eyes just in time, Aziraphale huffs. Everything on him, toes to wings, was now covered in sand.  
  
“How inconvenient,” was his polite reaction, adding a frown on his face, just to make the demon aware that that was utterly unpleasant.  
  
“Miracle it away, if you want,” Crowley shrugged, just to make the angel aware that he couldn’t care less.  
  
“I was just being nice,” the angel justified, evaluating if he should clean off the sand manually or with a little of divine intervention. He wasn’t sure he could use the Lord’s given powers to just clean.  
  
“Oh, dinnae notice,” Crowley stood, stretching his legs and pulling in his wings before walking away from Aziraphale. And since he didn’t want to lose touch with him, he waved and added: “See you around, Angel.”  
  
“Hopefully, not so soon!” Aziraphale pouted, sighing softly. And when he was still torn about the way he should clean himself, a recurrent question popped up in his mind,  
  
_Did we ever meet when you were still in Heaven?_

**Author's Note:**

> Hello peeps!
> 
> I want to thank you all for the nice comments to episode 1 of this series!
> 
> I am truly happy it wasn't just a temporary flare, it looks like I really enjoy writing about these two dorks :D
> 
> I accept suggestions for encounters or specific missing moments :) For example, I decided I will make one episode with short pieces about what they invented. And Crowley will invent Scottish accent ♥
> 
> And again, I need to thank my beta @SpaceShipRocket!!! Thank youuu! xx
> 
> And thank you all, again xx


End file.
